Playing With Fire
by PaulRemarque
Summary: Toriel has no business showing up so late at night, and lying to him. Sans figures there's something up. (Alterfell AU)


Author's note

Don't read this if you don't like rape/noncon, even if it's just implied.

I don't condone the relationship, and what Sans uses to justify his actions. Toriel does have her fair share in the blame, but it's not the victim's fault for what transpires, most of the time.

Anyways, this is a oneshot. It's not in my collection because of adult themes, and my other oneshots aren't M rated.

Based off what Frii-sans said, they have a pretty unhealthy relationship. But they keep coming back to one another.

Here's my take on that.

Alterfell belongs to Frii-sans on tumblr.

* * *

"What do you want?" Sans asked. The short goat woman standing before him gave a huff, irritated by the sound of it. In the doorway, stood Toriel Dreemurr, soaking wet. Sans noticed her makeup was done as always. Sure, it looked cheap but it wasn't running. That was usually a good thing. Then again, Toriel hid behind her makeup like a shy child would hide behind an adult.

"protection from the rain. and to see frisk." Sans snorted, unmoving as a statue. She'd have to try way better than that. Toriel looked up at him, sighing at his sound of amusement. "what, can't visit a friend?" She asked, mockingly in a seductive tone, enough to interest any guy. Even Sans, who knew what she was trying for.

"Toriel, it's eleven something at night. Frisk is asleep, it's way past his bedtime, I've told you that on more than one occasion, I'm sure. If you wanted protection from the rain, you could've just stayed home and waited until tomorrow, when Frisk is awake and visiting hours are open." He pointed out, debunking her explanation for her arrival as well as taking great pains to pronounce each syllable and word separately, slowly, to ensure she got the point. "Unless you came to visit me." He really didn't need a booty call this late at night, though.

"regardless, let me in. i'll catch my death out here, and i'd hate for your name to be on my tombstone." She returned, and with great force, exerted enough pressure to push him away and to allow her in. Once her test of strength was passed, she turned around and closed the door. Common decency. Even if you shake your hips in a way that would make grandmother blush while in the process.

Sans didn't respond. Toriel's hips did not lie, she had made it clear to him before, but every time, it was a chain of deceit. The intention behind the gestures was clear enough, and he'd be damned if he thought she didn't want him. She certainly never made any motions of the kind towards his brother.

One that he fell for, regardless of how many times she tried (and succeeded).

"Maybe that'd be a good thing. Never pegged you for the cute marriage and shit type. Unto death do we part or something. Guess every girl really is the same." Toriel wheeled around, eyes narrowed at him like he killed her brother. Defensive much?

"i'm not into that! you know how people like to be coddled after death? like 'nancy died of this disease' or some shit?" She hissed, crossing her arms and taking a defensive stance. "i'm not the freak here." She smiles, satisfied that she had insulted him in a juvenile fashion.

Sans could really only laugh at this display of dominance, because who was she kidding? "The real joke has always been that you're a one H(o)P(e) monster, you know that, right? One hard hit from me, and you're dust." In one quick stride, he had covered the distance her hands had worked to put between them. She knew what would follow in this chain of events.

"You'd be kidding yourself if you thought I'd treat you like a princess. Don't fucking scream, because if the kid wakes up, it'll be to a pile of dust, not his friend Toriel Dreemurr." The threat was sufficient enough to shut her up for a little while.

And maybe dragging her by her still wet ears had been a needless display of roughness. She growled, and made sure to make walking a labor, insulting him all the way to his room and tugging at his legs, in an attempt to make him trip. But she shouldn't have been so goddamn alluring, when she knew just how fragile his self control was.

"freak! freak! freak!" Sans had long blocked out her cries of anger, considering them pitiful attempts of insults.

"Is that what you say whenever someone dishes out punishment?" It was funny how angry she could get. If it hadn't been for anatomical boundaries and her questionable water supply, he was sure she would've been steaming with anger.

Maybe she really did have a few redeeming qualities, with her inability (and his own) to break from the cycle, her seductiveness, and her stubbornness. He knew a great many girls in her place would have given up, after realizing that no, Sans isn't in the habit of only looking.

In the aftermath (afterglow seemed too intimate a word), Sans went to bed. Toriel knew she had overstayed her welcome, and left, claiming that next time, she truly will incinerate him. Hadn't she said that the past nineteen or so times? Well, thank god she wasn't into pillow talk or he probably would've (maybe) accidentally bumped her HP down to zero. He didn't have time for her problems, just as she didn't have time for his.

She didn't care about his seven children lost to time and a foolish king, and he didn't care about what disorder and mental problems she may have had. Definitely not.

* * *

(bonus)

"Hey, Sans, what's with the burns? Did you hurt yourself making hot pockets?" Frisk inquired, green eyes reflecting the worry he felt for his parental figure. The child took another breakfast hot pocket from the plate the two shared, watching Sans closely for any signs of pain he may have felt. They felt good going down, as they always did.

Sans glanced at the only survivor of the eight children, finishing off a hot pocket. "sure, kiddo." And Frisk followed his example, wolfing down the hot pockets, even if his eyes remained firmly fixated on the charred bone. Sans sure had a talent for getting brunt in the strangest of places.


End file.
